


Mutant Lives Matter

by humandevolution



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, EP!Charles, Gen, Institutional Discrimination, M/M, Minor Character Death, Newsroom!AU, Police Violence, anchor!Erik, notorious rbg is bae, slight tw for BLM nods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humandevolution/pseuds/humandevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik Lehnsherr is the main anchor on the Mutant News Network (or the MNN), and his Executive Producer is Charles Xavier. Together, they bring all mutant-related news to the public but mainly mutants, who have been oppressed by society. One night, Erik covers the story of the Mutant Lives Matter movement, which begins with the death of young college student in Baltimore, who had been killed by police. His opinion soon is brought to light, and another national news network approaches him to speak about the movement and why it's important on their network.</p><p>(This is a Newsroom!AU, where that show and mutants exist in the same universe.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutant Lives Matter

**Author's Note:**

> I've been binge watching The Newsroom on Amazon for the last week.  
> -D

“Mutant lives matter. Mutant lives matter. Mutant lives matter.”

Erik cupped a hand over his left ear, trying to hear his colleague speak into his ear piece, the camera before him rolling and the lights blinding him amidst the contrast of the darkening sky. People crowded behind him, onlookers for the spectacular show, most of them humans, most of them scared. Beyond their wall were the chanters, the fire, and the noise.

“ _Taking us now to Erik Lehnsherr, on the ground at the Baltimore civil unrest. Erik, can you tell us what you’re seeing?_ ”

Erik nodded his acknowledgement to the camera man, before looking into the scope, his face grave.

“Hi, Raven,” he began, eyes scanning around him with a slight sense of dread. “The civil unrest began when a twenty year old mutant was gunned down by police just five blocks from his apartment in West Baltimore. Witnesses to the crime said that he was leaving the school of Social Work at the university’s mutant-only campus, wearing a large black coat and a dark beanie. It was getting dark and cold, and police were patrolling off of Martin Luther King Boulevard. They started stalking him in their vehicle before eventually stopping him near a small park in the area. Alex Summers, the student at the University of Maryland in Baltimore, ran and was shot in the back. The Baltimore Police Department have yet to issue a statement, but much of the city has been in pandemonium following the release of the police officer, William Stryker, who allegedly shot him.”

Erik swallowed thickly, raising his right hand to his ear, listening for Raven’s response.

Raven sounded a bit pissed when she asked, “ _Is an investigation underway?_ ”

Erik fought back a sigh, responding, “As of right now, the department is in talks about doing an investigation, but none is underway yet. Officer Stryker issued a statement to the community earlier this evening, saying…”

Erik fumbled for the notepad in his pocket, reading the quote he’d taken from the press conference, “‘There is no argument that mutants are a threat. What I have been accused of…of killing a mutant in cold blood… It’s incorrect. My actions were done for the safety of the Baltimore community at large.’”

He shrugged, looking into the camera, “This is Erik Lehnsherr, live from the civil unrest in West Baltimore tonight, following the death of University of Maryland student Alex Summers early this evening. Back to Raven Darkholme in the studio of Mutant News Network. Raven…”

x

“How are you feeling?” Charles asked, expression unreadable.

Erik shifted uncomfortably on the hotel mattress, eyes looking out the large windows to the Baltimore city skyline, everything lit up like it was midday.

“I feel sick,” he confessed, looking back to his computer, “and I…miss you.”

Charles smirked at him, his laugh crackly over the webcam.

“I miss you too,” and then his face went serious. “Talk to me. Tell me…what are you feeling right now. What is it like?”

Erik cleared his throat, shifting again.

“I feel like…like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. Like I’ve been shot in the knee caps, and my soul was pulled from body through my…my nose.”

Charles nodded, urging Erik to go on.

“That boy never had a chance!” Erik finally exploded. “We’re rounded up like animals, sequestered into _ghettos_ , where healthy food is not affordable, good education is not accessible, and the city overlooks those who are suffering! It is only a matter of time before these places they drive us into are bordered by walls and barbed wire fences, before we are forced to label ourselves by what we are - not whom - and before our very selves are stripped from us! What the fuck is going on, Charles? Who the fuck let this happen? Who?”

x

Erik was smoking a cigarette at his desk, when Charles walked in without knocking and sat in one of the leather seats across from him.

“Will McAvoy wants to do a piece on us in his next broadcast. Twenty-minute segment, and he wants to talk about Alex Summers.”

Blowing a puff of smoke out of his mouth, Erik stared at his Executive Producer thoughtfully.

“Call him,” Charles said.

Erik stared at Charles for a few moments more, before picking up the phone.

As it was ringing, Charles stood up and commented, “I hate when you smoke. Your breath…”

His face did a, frankly, adorable crinkling…thing, and Erik quirked a brow at him.

“Smells a bit.”

Charles left the office, and Erik stubbed out his cigarette.

“ _Erik! I’m glad you called…_ ”

x

“Erik, why do you think much of the mutant community is displeased with much of their Mutant Lives Matter community being humans?”

Just below the camera’s view, Erik clenched his fists, leaning toward the camera and clearing his throat.

“Well, Will, they aren’t mutants,” Erik answered, point blank, unapologetic as always. “While it is gratifying to see so much support for our cause, that is just how it is seen. A _cause_. These are people’s lives at stake, here. How many mutant children have been killed walking home from school in the past six months? Forty-one. Forty-one children have been killed, and the year is not yet over. Having humans support us is necessary, but we must be able to stand on our own, we must be able to declare who we are without using their shoulders to stand upon.”

Erik rubbed his jaw, before continuing, “We, as mutants, must band together. We must assert ourselves. We must walk forward without the chains of history weighing us. The premise upon these supporters stand, in the general context, is that, to be good people, they must stand up for this. They must stand up for what is right. And I definitely agree with that, but why should humans be validated for doing what they already _should_ be doing? What about the history that follows us wherever we go? What about the day-to-day surrender we are forced to…to…do…because of the various ways in which our system has oppressed mutants?”

There was silence for a moment. Erik stared at Will, who was looking down at his notepad, looking as if he was gearing up for something.

Then, “Erik, do you think that there can ever be true equality between mutants and humans in a country with this much baggage?”

Erik blinked once…twice… Will’s gaze did not falter.

“No, Will,” he finally admitted. “What has man done to mutantkind cannot be undone. Not ever.”

He took a deep breath, “But I do believe that…that perhaps there can be…an evolution of the social consciousness. We cannot rewrite history, but we can move forward, choosing our path for the future. What we do now…that is important. I…I would even go as far as to say that we shouldn’t forget our history. We should acknowledge it. Examine it and learn from our mistakes. The world is doing a bad thing to mutants. A very bad thing. The MLM is a response to that institutional problem and about finding a way out of the labyrinthine problem we face; there may not be a way out now, but perhaps one can be made...”

The camera turned to Will, who nodded slowly before looking into the lens.

“I’m Will McAvoy, and thank you for watching News Night on ACN with our special guest, night time anchor of the Mutant News Network, or MNN, Erik Lehnsherr. Now, for…”

x

“You could have been a little less,” Charles murmured, poking Erik’s face with a finger, “militant mutanist. Make a wish, love.”

Erik stared down at the eyelash on Charles’ finger, before closing his eye and blowing. When he opened his eyes, Charles was watching him with a kind expression on his face, his blue eyes Erik’s absolute favorite shade.

“Well, looks like I didn’t get my wish,” Erik joked, crinkling his nose at Charles. “You’re still here.”

For a moment, Charles actually looked offended, and then he just smirked, turning to walk away.

“That’s the last time I ever trying to be romantic.”

A huge grin spread on Erik’s face, and just as he was about to follow his EP, a hand was clapped on his shoulder, startling him. Will McAvoy came into his line of sight and chuckled.

“Good show tonight, Erik,” he said. "Only half of your response will go viral, but you nonetheless brought up vital points."

Erik nodded once, smirking at the other anchor, who shifted from foot to foot before speaking again.

“Would you like to come into my office? I have a proposition for you…”

x

“He wants ACN to _what_?!” Charles nearly shrieked, eyes huge.

Erik smoothed his palms down Charles’s back, rubbing circles right between his shoulder blades as they stood on the balcony of the MNN office building.

“Will McAvoy wants us to have a segment on their network, right during prime time.”

Charles’ jaw ticked for a few seconds, before he asked, “And he can…he can _do_ that?”

Erik nodded with a shrug and a smirk.

“The way he said it…” Erik shifted on his feet.

Charles chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully.

“I don’t want to merge with the ACN,” he decided after a while, “I want us…to retain our autonomy.”

Erik rolled his eyes, smiling, “Of course, Charles! Why would we…you know…we’ll keep our autonomy. I can’t believe _I’m_ the one trying to convince _you_ to run with the humans!”

Charles snorted at that but shrugged.

“We’re brushing off on each other.”

Erik’s smile turned flirtatious.

“A bit more than that, I’d hope…”

Charles rolled his eyes and shook his head.

x

“What is such a big deal about being considered a protected class?” Will asked, his eyes gleaming. “Doesn’t that mean one step closer to equality for mutants?”

Erik knew he was being goaded, knew he was being pushed into say what the world really needed to hear, and he knew Charles would probably hit him for saying it, knew their ratings would either take a dive or increase with what would surely be a viral video.

“No, it doesn’t,” he began, taking a deep breath. “If you are in a protected class, you are not equal. That is a very real definition of what it means to be unequal. If we were truly equal, we would not need to be a protected class. We would not need to live in ghettos and tell our children how to act when they go outside. We would not need to warn them of the police and pray that they come home safely from their friend’s house down the street. We would not need to tell that, because of who they are, they are less likely to get the job they want, less likely to graduate from college, less likely to live passed thirty-five years old!”

Erik shifted in his seat, looking directly into the camera.

“We are not equals. This…we are simply not.”

Will nodded thoughtfully, before asking, "There's a difference between equality and equity, yes?" 

"Yes."

"The MPA - or Mutant Protection Act - would help mutants get a seat at the adult's table, so to speak, yes? Equal opportunity for employment and the like.

Erik paused for only a moment, his eyes boring into Charles', who stood just behind the camera, and then he looked back at Will.

"You've got a person, and that person is five-four. The person's trying to look over a fence is on their toes just to see what's on the other side. Someone who is six-five walks up beside that person and can see over the fence without a problem. When the five-four person says, 'I can't see what's happening. What's going on?' the tall person gets annoyed and says, 'Why can't you just look? It's so easy to see from here.'" 

The set was silent.

"You give the short person a soap box to stand on, and suddenly that person can see over the fence. But the tall person complains that this isn't equal, that this is privileging a group over another."

Erik took another pause and shifted in his seat before continuing, "The MPA is historical legislation, but to say that mutants are now equal - because we're considered a protected class - is simply not true, Will. There will be complaints about the box mutants have been given to stand upon, but the true issue is that the fence is too high. There is a problem with the institution, where only part of the people are tall enough to see over the fence. We should not be berating those who need boxes to stand upon with questions as to why they are not tall enough. We should be berating the institution, asking it why the _Hell_ it would build a fence so high in the first place."

Will took a deep breath, staring at Erik with an unreadable expression, before he looked into the camera.

"We'll return after a short break. Thank you, Erik, for coming to ACN..."

x

"I'm surprised you didn't start going on about the fact that we need our own network to even be guaranteed that mutant-relevant stories are heard on the national news," Charles commented, sipping his brandy and moving a piece. "Check."

Erik stared at Charles with affection, his chin resting in his palm.

"You're my favorite person in the whole of existence."

Charles took pause at that, looking up to Erik with a confused smirk.

"Barring Ruth Bader Ginsberg - the _notorious_ RBG?" 

Erik smirked, nodding his acquiescence.

"Barring her."

They were quiet for a moment.

"Hank is my favorite person, personally..." Charles murmured, after Erik had declared his intent to win within the next three moves.

He had only a moment to savor in the joke, before he was being tackled into the couch, the chess board going flying. Charles stared into Erik's eyes with a challenge, as the other man hovered over him. Upon realizing that there wasn't a loud clatter from the things Erik had knocked over, Charles glanced over his lover's shoulder and saw the pieces frozen in midair and smirked.

"Cool trick."

Erik rolled his eyes, before he planted a firm kiss on the clothing-covered, center of Charles' chest.

"We're going to have to talk about it some time," Erik declared, conversationally.

Charles sighed, running his hands through Erik's hair.

"I know, but I had been hoping you'd forgotten."

Erik just smirked at him.

"I'll be lobbying in DC for a few weeks," Charles began, looking anywhere but at Erik, "for school reform."

Erik hummed, steeling himself.

"Integration of mutant and human schools..."

"Even though mutants are clearly-"

Charles kissed him abruptly, not letting him finish.

 _Not tonight, darling,_ Charles thought to Erik, who sighed wistfully against his lover's mouth.

_You're no fun._

Charles pulled back, brows furrowed and mouth turned down.

"You take that back, Erik Lehnsherr." _I am the most fun._

Erik raised a brow at him, his eyes sparking with a challenge.

_Mutant. School. Reform._

Charles let out a long suffering sigh, and said, "Fine! Fine! Let's do th-"

There was a beeping sound suddenly, and both Erik and Charles look to the table beside the couch in question. It was Charles' phone that was lighting up, and then a moment later, Erik's started too. They both scrambled off of each other to grab their respective mobiles and started flicking through page after page of updates, neither hearing the sound of chess pieces falling to the ground.

Then, they were standing, heading for the door, when Erik thought for a moment that he was disappointed their bickering had been cut short.

 _Later_ , Charles promised him, reaching over to squeeze the man's wrist before they marched to the front door of their flat.

There was news to report.


End file.
